


But Darling, Stay With Me

by AFangirlFantasy



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baker Harry, Cute, Drinking, Drunk Dialing, Drunk Louis, Fluff, I don't know what else to tag, Kid Fic, M/M, No Smut, Single Parent Louis, Strangers to Lovers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bartender perrie, briefly mentioned, but not in it, called the wrong number, pretend you didn't see those tags, the other boys are mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:59:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9510716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFangirlFantasy/pseuds/AFangirlFantasy
Summary: The 'Louis calls the wrong number AU' with a twist!Now available inRussian





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [But darling stay with me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576394) by [Ann_Marie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann_Marie/pseuds/Ann_Marie)



> Heyyy!!! I hope you like this short story that I decided to bang out for you all! I'm currently working on a much longer fic, that may take me another month or so of writing and editing, before it's up. But I wanted to post something in the meantime, since it may be a while before I post again! Fair warning, this hasn't been beta'd by anyone, so sorry in advance!
> 
> PS:I love you!

The best place to start a story is not the beginning or the end, but the middle. Yes, in the middle where the main character is already six feet deep in some kind of shit, and they’re in trouble. In the middle, where all the juicy drama is about to unfold. And for Louis Tomlinson, that’s exactly where he is. He’s been at the bar for over three hours, he’s drunk himself stupid, and he’s pretty sure the guy he’s been hitting on all night, is straight. Great.

The thing is, is that Louis didn’t even want to go out tonight. No. But his fucking ‘best mate’ Niall, had to go spouting some shit about never hanging out, and making Louis feel like a guilty twat. So Louis sucked up his pride, pouted his lips, and put his best damn pair of skinnies on. Because if Louis Tomlinson is going out, he damn well is going out looking good.

But back to the problem- the problem is that Louis is belligerent, and it’s not the typical kind of intoxicated for him where he can still handle getting himself home. No, he absolutely cannot take himself home. Even walking at this time of night, with this amount of alcohol in his system, is sure to end with him asleep on a bench next to a homeless man, or fallen into a ditch somewhere. And neither idea sounds appealing to the inebriated man, so in other words…he needs to find a ride home, and preferably soon.

Which brings Louis to his next problem. Niall is gone. The last time those icy blonde locks had been seen, was over an hour ago when Louis told him to sod off. Which…Niall was getting in the way of the guy Louis was trying to pull. Yes, the same guy that Louis definitely thinks is straight, now that a woman has just walked up to him, and kissed on the cheek. Fuck.

“Oi Louis, was good talkin’ to you, mate. Have a good night,” the man says before entangling a limb around the girl’s waist and walking away together.

Louis nods until the guy saunters off, muttering ‘fuck’ disappointedly to himself, as he’s being left alone. However, as if aware of Louis’ turmoil, the pink haired bartender with large blue eyes comes over to him. “You alright, love?”

“Just peachy,” Louis says, dragging each letter out in a playful, yet also slightly annoyed manner.

 She laughs at the dramatic enunciation of the words, but there’s still a gleam of worry in her eyes that Louis would rather not see. “Well that’s good, you got a ride home?”

 At the sudden question, Louis falters. “Er…I did? But…Neil? No. Niall? Yes! Niall’s gone!”

 "Niall’s gone?” She repeats curiously.

 “Yes!”

 “So how’re you gettin’ home then?”

 Fear dawns on Louis’ face, transforming the previously excited grin into a full-blown frown. “I dunno know, Pinky.”

 The girl’s grin widens, “It’s Perrie. Want me to call you a cab?”

 The offer is outstanding, wonderful, brilliant, amazing! Louis had forgotten that such an invention existed. He could just get a lift back home from a cab! Except…well except for the fact that Louis has no cash. He stopped taking his credit cards out with him years ago, when he realized that he tended to spend a lot more money whenever he opened a tab at the bar. Money, that he almost never really had.

 Now per usual, his wallet for going out is filled with his ID and some cash. Though unlike other nights, Louis did not restock what he had left over from the last time he went out. He thought he was going home with Niall, and the Irishman promised he’d pay for his drinks if Louis tagged along, and unfortunately, both ended up to be false. After Louis lost track of Niall, he spent the only bit of money he had on his last glass of beer, and because of this, he’s doomed to never be able to leave the bar.

 “No money, Pinky. ‘m broke. ‘ve fucked up.”

 “Hey, hey, hey!” Perrie jolts her body closer to Louis, quickly placing a hand on top of Louis’ in comfort. “No worries, love. No worries. Er…I don’t have any cash though to give you either. I’m a bit tight for rent, and I need the tips I’m making to have a home for another month.”

 “Oh no, let me give you some-” Louis begins to say, only to remember that once again, he has no money. Not even a cent. “Fuck…’ve really mucked this up.”

 “What about your friends? I saw blondie leave a while ago, you got anyone else you can call?”

 Call? Call someone to pick him up? Louis’ brain turns as he thinks the hardest he feels like he has ever in his entire life, and suddenly the dimly lit lightbulb burns! Liam! Liam! Liam! He can call Liam!

 “Liam!”

 “Great! Where’s your phone? Give him a call!”

 Louis goes to pull out his phone, and nearly cries at the sight that unfolds to him. Because would it have been too kind of fate to let him have this? Would it have been too much, to just let Louis get home safe? Staring at the phone in his hands, Louis tries every button, but it comes to no avail. The phone is dead.

 “Wow, darling. This is not your night,” Perrie dreadfully informs him.

 The alcohol Louis has consumed has begun to make him tired, and the room feels like it’s spinning anytime he closes his eyes. Leaning his head against the palm of his hand to rest on, Louis mumbles. “I’m just gonna stay here, and maybe sleep, and maybe die.”

 “Do you know anyone’s number off the top of your head? If you do, you can use my phone.”

 “Yes!” Louis shouts as his head snaps back up in newfound energy. “I know Liam’s number!”

 “Well let’s call Liam then!”

 Perrie pulls out her phone, handing it to Louis with a hopeful grin. Louis takes it gratefully, and stares at the screen, prepared to type in Liam’s number. However, Louis gets to the last two digits and cannot recall what they are. Is it a six-nine, or nine-six? Six-nine, or nine-six? Six-nine, or nine-six? Louis tosses the two numbers around, until his brain practically morphs into the digits, and yet, he still can’t fully recall what the order is. He’s just going to have to guess.

Debating over the numbers in his head, Louis weighs what sounds better. Nine-six seems like it’s right, but six-nine makes sixty-nine, and there’s nothing that can go wrong with good ole’ sixty-nine. So of course, Louis and his perverted thoughts, agree sixty-nine is the way to go. Typing the digits in at the end of the long number, Louis hits call and prays that he’s done it right.

 “Hullo?” The velvety rasp that answers the phone, trickles down Louis’ soul like the whiskey he’d had earlier, and it shocks his system. For one, because it’s so intoxicating. And for two, because it’s definitely not Liam. Fuck.

“Liam?” Louis asks, though he knows. Even in his drunken stupor, Louis can identify Liam’s cadence that sounds like he’s forever got a stick up his arse. And well, with Zayn around, yeah that’s pretty much true. So he knows one hundred percent, that this man on the line is not Liam, but he has to ask anyway, just to be sure.

“Liam?” The voice responds questioningly, “Think you’ve got the wrong number there, mate. ‘m Harry.”

“Wait! I’m…I’m lost.” Lost? Why the hell did Louis announce he was lost?

“Lost?” Harry reiterates like he’s just as confused as Louis is, on why he said that. “How’re you lost?”

Louis kind of, sort of, definitely breaks down. The liquor that had been making him feel like he was untouchable an hour ago, is no longer agreeing with the panic in his veins. He just wants to go home, and he wants to go home now. So with the alcohol, and the wild emotions circulating together in his brain…he maybe, sort of definitely, starts crying.

“I just want to go home,” he says. “Lost me Niall, lost me money, and my phone’s dead.”

Whoever this Harry fellow is on the phone with him must be a saint, because after he slightly gasps at Louis’ reaction, he proceeds to ask, “Are you alright? Please don’t cry. Were you trying to call Liam to take you home?”

“Yes,” Louis admits with a sniffle.

“Okay…do you know Liam’s number?”

“Thought I did, but I ended up calling you.”

Harry sighs, “Been a rough night, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Louis brokenheartedly affirms.

Without any hesitation, this Harry that Louis’ been on the phone with for a good minute, does the one thing Louis didn’t even think was relatively possible. “Okay, well where are you right now?”

“I’m at O'Malley's, downtown.”

“Great, I’ll be there in five minutes. Wait…what’s your name?”

Stunned into silence, Louis practically can’t form the words to answer, but he manages to get his name out some way or another. “Louis.”

“Alright, Louis. See you soon.”

The call ends, leaving Louis in a state of shock. Miraculously, he’s managed to get a lift from a complete and utter stranger. What’s the catch? What’s the trade off? There’s no way this Harry lad is willing to help a poor drunken sod like Louis, with no ulterior motive in mind! But as Louis considers the infinite possibilities of how the next few hours of his life are going to play out, Perrie alters his focus.

“Everything work out? You get your ride?”

Unsure of whether to mention his concerns over who he’s receiving a ride from, Louis thinks better to not say anything of his doubts. “Yeah…yes, I did,” he slurs instead with a grin.

“Great!”

Louis hands back her phone, and for the next few minutes, entertains Louis’ time by keeping him in a discussion about cats. And really? Cats of all things? Louis loves cats, don’t get him wrong, but when he’s drunk out of his mind on a Saturday night, it’s not the typical kind of conversation he’s normally looking to have. Then again, this isn’t a normal night, now is it? Louis’ just about to disagree with Perrie’s point on the color of cat she favors, when a presence comes incredibly close to Louis at the bar, and intrudes on their banter.

“Excuse me, I’m lookin’ for a Louis?”

Had he not heard his name, Louis would have still recognized this person as Harry, by the syrupy drawl of his voice. With a final thought, Louis notes that it’s now or never, as he turns in his seat to address the either miracle of a man, or Satan himself. However, what Louis had not been prepared to address, was a man with brown curls tumbling down to his shoulders, bright pink lips, and green eyes so ethereal that Louis’ sure they don’t actually exist. What Louis had not been prepared to address, was turning to find the most gorgeous man in all creation, next to him in a bar, and uttering his name. What Louis had not been prepared to address, was this beautiful creature looking for him, and Louis’ drunken self is not afraid to let that be known.

“No fucking way,” shoots from his mouth faster than a bullet, and if Louis was sober, he’d die of embarrassment.

The taller man shifts his body from Perrie to Louis, with his eyebrows scrunched in alarm. “What?”

“Er, sorry. I’m Lou, I mean Louis... I’m Louis.”

At the most pitiful attempt at saying his name, Harry’s concerned pout lifts into a blinding smile. “Louis?! ‘m Harry, s’nice to officially meet you.”

Harry extends a hand out for Louis to shake, and the drunken lad does with the best of his impaired ability. “Likewise,” he says, as he tries not to comment on the mammoth size of Harry’s hand around his much smaller palm, when they’re held together. No, he won’t comment on that size difference at all.

“Erm, you ready to go?”

Louis smirks, “That’s the plan, innit?”

Chuckling, Harry replies. “Yes, yes it is. Alright then, let’s get you home.”

Helping Louis out of his chair, Harry wraps a hand around Louis’ waist to guide him out of the bar, as Perrie waves the two off with a pleasant good-bye. It should probably bother Louis more, but the warmth that swirls across his skin at Harry’s touch is like nothing he’s ever felt, and he’s taking this time to appreciate the sensation while it’s there.

“My car is the black one over there,” Harry announces, as they step out onto the sidewalk.

“I can manage to get there meself, thanks.”

Louis shouldn’t have said anything. If he had just continued to let Harry help him, he’d be doing fine for himself. But no…he had to go and act cocky, and jinx himself with more bad luck. Because as Louis decides he’s apparently capable of walking to Harry’s passenger side alone, he trips three steps in, and falls flat on his arse. And it fucking hurts.

“Lou!” Harry yells as he bends down to grab Louis by the back, peeling his body off the ground. “You alright?”

When he’s lifted up Louis’ right knee terribly hurts, and he lets out a sound that informs Harry of his pain, despite wanting to appear fine.

“Here,” Harry states with concern, “Let me help you in the car.” Without any arguing, surprisingly, Louis allows Harry to assist him in getting inside.

After Louis’ settled, Harry closes his door and walks his beautifully long legs over to the driver’s side, where he gracefully clambers in, while Louis pretends he’s not staring. Sober Louis would be great at being sneaky, but Drunk Louis doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, and is pretty sure he’s not being inconspicuous with his actions. For all he knows, he’s probably gawking at the Greek God beside him, and the poor man is just trying his best to endure this until Louis’ home.

“Lou?”

“Huh?” Louis responds, thrust from his thoughts.

“What’s your address, love?”

Love? Harry just called him love? The most beautiful man that Louis is sure has ever been allowed to live on earth, has just called him love. The small affection is so paralyzing to Louis that he’s forgotten what the question Harry asked even was. In another episode of ‘stupid shit Louis says when he’s drunk,’ Louis mutters out into the vastness of the car, “You’re really fucking pretty.”

Louis should be ashamed. Louis should get out of Harry’s car, and hide for all of eternity. Louis should do a lot of things, but the moment his words have transpired in the car, Harry’s widened eyes and flushed cheeks, keep him stuck firm to his seat. “Uhm…sorry,” Louis says in a last ditch effort to keep this from being the most awkward night of his life. “What’d you say?”

“Oh, erm right.” Harry says, “What’s your address?” 

*

It doesn’t take long for Harry to arrive to Louis’ flat, though the drive itself felt like it took forever. They hadn’t said a word after Louis told him where he lived, mostly because Louis was afraid of what else would pour from his uncensored mouth, and Harry suddenly seemed a million miles elsewhere.

Driving up to the curb of the sidewalk, Harry parks, and Louis turns to the wondrous man with gratitude. “Thanks Harry, for the lift. You’re a real lifesaver.”

Peering into him with his addicting green eyes, Harry replies. “No problem.”

Louis begins to reach for his door handle to let himself out, when he shuffles his knee a touch, and is reminded of the pain he’s caused to it. Harry notices him wince, but Louis talks before Harry can say anything first. “I don’t usually ask for help, but I’ve really hurt my knee. I know I’ve already asked enough from you, so it’s alright if you don’t want to anymore, but if you could help me to my flat that would be incredibly appreciated. I’ll even pay you for your service, and for the gas you spent on getting me here.”

“You don’t need to pay me Lou, I was happy to help. And sure, I’ll take you to your flat.”

When Harry gets out of the car, he moves around to support Louis’ body, and as he does, Louis in turn, grasps onto Harry’s shoulders. “It’s the one thing I regret most about buying this place,” Louis says as they start walking up together, to the building.

Harry cocks his head, “What’s that?”

“Buying a place that didn’t have a lift. I live on the second floor, so it’s not terrible. But some days it’d be a lot easier to not have to walk up two flights of stairs.”

With a nod, Harry supplies, “I can imagine. When I first got my flat I wasn’t concerned with making sure the buildings had lifts, but my mum insisted I needed one. Glad she talked me into it.”

“Yes, good for her.”

The two climb the stairs together, Harry patiently supporting Louis by his side. It’s comforting, having him there, and Louis wonders why he feels so much trust towards a person he hardly knows. After a handful of minutes have passed, they eventually make it to Louis’ door, 2D. Harry releases his arms from Louis’ frame, and Louis stands awkwardly, not sure where to go from here. He knows where he’d like to go, straight back into Harry’s arms, except this time preferably in his bed.

“Thanks again for all your help, Harry. I can’t express how much it means. Wish there was something I could do to repay the debt I owe you.”

Harry smiles, “Getting to spend some time with you is payment enough.”

At the compliment, Louis’ cheeks burn. “That’s very nice, but you uhm, you don’t have to say that.”

“I guess I don’t, but I want to.”

“Oh well, thanks.”

Louis grabs his keys from his coat pocket and begins to unlock the door to his flat. “Well, I better head in. Goodnight Harry.”

“Of course. Night Lou.”

Louis enters inside his flat and turns around to give one final smile towards the beautiful man that he’s sure he’s hallucinated this entire time, and sure he’ll never see again. As if aware of Louis’ thoughts, Harry hurriedly says, “See you around,” before strolling off.

Once Louis has closed the door behind himself, he reprimands his actions for not having asked Harry in for tea, or something to eat, or maybe to kiss. Anything would have sufficed, but alas, Louis is an utter nob who didn’t say anything at all. Yelling internally at himself, he limps towards his bathroom where he washes up, and after to his bedroom, where he hopes to never wake up again, when there’s an audible  knock on the door.

Making his way back to the front of his flat, Louis opens it up to find Harry standing on the other side, his cheeks flushed pink and coming off nervous. “Erm…so you’re never gonna believe this, but my car won’t start.”

“You’re joking.”

“Swear it.”

“Wow.” At the sight of Harry again, Louis’ subconscious is demanding him, ask him to come inside. Ask him to stay the night. Ask him to fuck us senseless into our bed sheets until we can’t feel anymore. Ask him whatever the fuck you want, but just get him inside. Now! “Uh, you wanna come in?”

“Thanks,” Harry grins.

When Harry comes inside, Louis realizes that he never turned the lights on in his flat, having thought he was going straight to sleep, but somehow it feels like it’s not worth it to put them on at this point. “Do you want to stay here for the night?”

“Oh, that’s alright. I can call a cab.”

“Harry don’t be daft, I owe you a favor anyways.”

Somehow, the grin on Harry’s face widens, exposing a dimple Louis hadn’t seen, as he says. “I mean…if it’s really no bother.”

“The only thing bothering me is you still standing by my front door. Come in, make yourself at home.”

“Oh okay, thanks.”

Louis laughs, “Stop saying thanks. I’ll have you sleep in my room tonight.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Harry asks. “Where’ll you sleep?”

“On the couch.”

“Lou, please. If anyone should sleep on the couch, it should be me.”

“But you’re my guest.”

“Exactly,” Harry remarks.

“No…not happening.”

“Fine, then let’s compromise.”

Louis’ eyes squint in curiousity, “Compromise?”

“Yeah, we both take the bed.”

Internally, Louis is screaming like a thirteen-year-old girl who’s going to see their favorite artists front row. Harry made the step that Louis was hesitant to do, but he damn well is taking it. “Okay,” he says in a way that is more nonchalant than he feels, “I suppose my bed is big enough for the two of us.”

Chuckling, Harry teases, “Suppose?”

“I mean, my bed is made for us average sized people, not sure it’ll accommodate you and your bear proportions,” Louis playfully sasses.

“Interesting comparison,” Harry smirks. “So you’re saying you don’t have a lot of experience with bears in your bed?”

“Are you- are you insinuating what I think you’re insinuating?”

“I believe you were the one to go there first.”

“I wasn’t, but now I know what type of porn you’re into.”

“I could say the same to you,” Harry winks.

Flabbergasted. Louis is absolutely flabbergasted. “Harold…I’m impressed.”

“At what,” Harry says with laughter in his words.

“Your cheekiness, for one. But I mean, look at you! Your bloody fit, witty, and you're nice on top of all that? You’re like a triple threat.”

“I’m not that great.”

“I’ve known you for an hour, trust me...you are.”

Harry ducks his head at the compliment, while Louis searches for glue to shut his mouth permanently with, until he hears, “You’re pretty great too, Lou.”

It shouldn’t, but Louis’ heart flutters at the comment. Everything about Harry is incredibly endearing, and he’s feeling himself be vastly affected by someone so soon, and it’s scaring him. Not brave enough to say any more on how he feels, Louis coughs to fill the air with something other than the echo of what was last said, and changes the subject. “Er, anyways. Uhm…you ready for bed?”

Nodding his head, which causes his beautiful tufts of hickory curls to glisten in the moonlight, Harry nears Louis. “Yeah, lead the way.”

Inside Louis’ bedroom, which thankfully is not as dirty as it had been earlier in the week, the two men take their clothes off, leaving only their briefs on as they slide into opposite sides of the bed.

“Harry,” Louis says, “If you need anything, feel free to use whatever’s there. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Okay, Lou.” Harry responds, “Goodnight.”

“Night, Harold.”

There’s a laugh that softly escapes the other’s boy lips like a whisper, into the room. Their backs are turned to one another, facing away, but Louis wants to turn over. He wants to turn over, rest his head on Harry’s back, and cuddle into his sides. He wants to turn over, and maybe tell Harry that he hopes this isn’t the last time he’ll see him. He wants to turn over, and just do anything, anything other than what he’s doing now. But there are lines he’d be crossing, and he’d be travelling into territories he’s not sure he’s ready to. There are responsibilities Louis has to uphold in reality, and he’d be an awful person to assume Harry would want to be a part of any of that. Instead, he just imagines what it all could be like, if he just summoned enough courage.

“Lou?”

Yanked from his fantasy, Louis murmurs, “Hmm?”

“’m a little cold.”

“Alright, let me get a blanket-”

“Actually,” Harry quietly cuts in, “I was wondering if you could erm…cuddle me?”

“Oh…OH. Yeah, I could er, cuddle you.”

With careful attention, Louis shuffles closer to the other body in his bed, curling himself around the expanse of skin, that feels warm against his own. “This okay?”

“Perfect.”

There are a million things Louis wants to say, but somehow silence seems to be enough. Resting his head against Harry’s shoulder blade in the way he had been previously imagining, Louis is lulled to sleep by the melody of a steady heart, beating perfectly just below. 

*

“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy!”

Let it be known that Louis Tomlinson loves his daughter, but that love may very well be compromised if she yanks his arm one more time to wake up. She usually knows better than this, Louis’ not sure what’s gotten into her, but he’s not dealing with it until he’s had at least two more hours of sleep.

“Olivia,” Louis sleepily mumbles, though keeping his eyes shut for fear of being blinded by the sunlight. “Let Daddy go back to sleep.”

“But Daddy!” She whines loudly.

This time Louis’ annoyance is past the brim of what he can handle. “What,” he snaps as he opens his eyes, giving her a stern look.

“There’s a strange man in your bed.”

With utter disbelief, Louis follows the direction that her tiny fingers are pointing, to a spot beside him, where Harry is smiling shyly in a seated position. “Erm…morning?”

If this situation had been different, Louis would be cherishing this moment of waking up next to Harry, who still looks completely breathtaking, if not better, than last night. However, this situation is not different, and Louis is very much of his element. “Oh fuck.”

“Daddy! That’s a bad word.”

Olivia, with her dirty blonde hair, and familiar blue eyes, pouts at Louis as if he’d just taken away her favorite toy. Louis should be more upset with her for storming into his room, but he can’t. She’s too adorable for a six-year-old; she’s his biggest weakness.

“You’re right, love. Daddy’s very sorry. Is Aunt Charlotte still here?”

“Yes! She told me to come in here and wake you up!”

That explains why his daughter came into his room unannounced. “Okay, sweetheart. Can you go tell her Daddy will be out in just one minute?”

“Yes!” Happily, his daughter runs away, heading to wherever Louis’ sister is still sitting. Getting up from the bed, Louis closes the door again and turns to Harry. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Lottie was going to bring her back this early, and-”

“Lou.”

“-I should have told them I was going out and that I’d need to sleep in-”

“Lou!”

“Hm?”

This time, Harry laughs, “It’s alright. I’m just surprised since you never mentioned having a daughter.”

“Oh, yeah, uhm typically don’t. Most people judge me for it, for being young and all…and I didn’t have the lights on last night when you came in, but if they were, you’d have seen all the toys lying around. Though my daughter loves trucks and dinosaurs, so probably wouldn’t have said much about her gender.”

“That’s cute.” Harry stands up and starts searching for his pants, “I should probably let you get back to your family. Don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Hey! You’re not at all.”

Zipping his pants back on, Harry smiles. “It’s okay. Just gonna get my keys, and I’ll be on my way.”

Louis cocks his head, “Thought your car wouldn’t start? 

Red rushes into Harry’s cheeks at the question, “Oh...I uhh lied, about that.”

Louis’ mind scatters at this new information, but Harry keeps talking, and Louis has to focus back on Harry instead of giving thought to his unraveling questions. “You’ve been great Louis. Thank you so much again for letting me stay.” 

“Oh, I mean if anything it was you Harry, that was the big help last night.”

As he tugs on his jacket, Harry beams. “I’d gladly do it again.”

Louis wants to respond, ask him when and where, ask for his number, anything, but there’s a knock on his door that stalls him. With a sigh Louis opens it up, finding Olivia standing there with her hands behind her back, “Daddy, Lottie said she needs to go, and that she wants to talk to you now.”

“Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

When he looks back to Harry, the man is standing beside him, looking unsure about what’s to come next. Thinking quickly, Louis makes a rash decision, doing something he didn’t think he’d ever do. Squatting down to his daughter’s height, Louis takes Olivia’s hand within his own “Uhm, sweetheart? I’d like you to meet Daddy’s new friend, his name is Harry.”

Peering up at Harry over Louis’ shoulder, Olivia waves with all the energy her little body can carry. “Hi, Harry!! I’m Olivia Tomlinson, age six, and my favorite color is red!”

Louis’ about to explain that Olivia’s teacher has the students’ introduce themselves this way to new classmates, so that Harry doesn’t think his daughter is strange for suddenly listing off facts about herself, when Harry surprisingly gets down on his knees with a smile. “Hi Olivia. I’m Harry Styles, age twenty-four, and my favorite color is blue.”

At his immediate response, Olivia beams. “Blue’s a great color! Daddy your turn!”

“Oh, uhm. I’m Louis Tomlinson, age twenty-six, and my favorite color is green.”

“Like Harry’s eyes,” Olivia concludes.

Glancing over at Harry, Louis stares unabashedly into the chartreuse irises of the man’s eyes, basking in the green warmth that emits from them, as Harry stares gladly back. As they’re caught in a haze, Louis’ own sapphire eyes don’t falter their focus for a second, as Louis proudly agrees with his daughter’s statement. “Yeah,” Louis smirks at Harry, who’s flushed all over. “Like Harry’s eyes."

“Daddy, can our new friend stay for breakfast?”

Pulling back from where he had been gazing, Louis looks at his daughter with his mouth agape. “Er, you’ll have to ask him that, love.”

Immediately, Olivia turns to Harry, “Harry, can you stay for breakfast!?”

Not a single shred of hesitation appears in Harry’s voice, as he smiles down at her. “Yeah munchkin, I’ll stay.”

And somehow, that was all Louis needed to hear to let go of the chains holding him down, and give in to whatever is destined to unfold. Maybe they’ll be friends? Maybe they’ll be more? Louis doesn’t know. But as he looks back at Harry with admiration in his eyes, he’s sure that someday soon, he will.

 

* * *

 

 

**Epilogue:**

Two Years Later:

 

In the nursery of their new and much larger flat, Louis rocks baby Alex in his hands, as Olivia sits on the floor listening to her Daddy. “And when Papa said he’d stay, little did we know, that he meant he’d stay for good. 

“Keep going,” Olivia whines, as Alex finally falls asleep in Louis’ arms.

“Sweetheart, you already know the rest of the story. Why don’t you tell it, then?”

With a wide grin, showing off her missing front tooth, Olivia sits up taller as she speaks. “After Papa stayed for breakfast, he kept coming over for lots of playdates, until one day he moved in with us for good! And then Daddy proposed to Papa, and made him part of the family! And then they got married, and I was the flower girl!! And Daddy cried, and Papa cried, and we danced a lot! And then we moved to our new home, and then we got Alex! The end!”

Louis laughs at his daughter’s rushed retelling of what’s happened the past two years. “Is it a happy ending, sweetheart?”

“The happiest!” She loudly proclaims.

At the end of her words, the bedroom door to the nursery is opened, revealing a tired Harry walking in. “Talking about me again?”

“Always,” Louis teases.

“Papa,” Olivia shouts, jumping into his arms to give him a hug. “You’re home!”

“Yes munchkin, just got back from the bakery.”

Standing up, Louis places Alex safely within his crib to sleep, and heads out into the hallway, closing the door to the room on his way out. “Hey Liv, why don’t you go put on a movie, while Daddy and Papa have a chat?”

“Okay,” she says excitedly, climbing off Harry to run into the living room.

When she’s out of sight, Louis grabs onto Harry’s shirt, and tugs him closer in, “Hey beautiful.”

Harry’s lips press against Louis’ with care, and Louis aches for so much more then they have time to do. When Harry pulls away, Louis pouts, until Harry presses a kiss against his neck, and softly speaks. “I’ve missed you too, baby. So much. Eight hours away from you is too long.”

At this, Louis smiles again, “You’re telling me.” Reaching out to grab Harry’s hand, Louis preens at the feeling of their wedding bands clasping around each other, within their grip.

“I’m gonna shower,” Harry informs, “And then I’ll make us all dinner.”

“Can I join you?”

Biting his lip, Harry smirks. “Think Olivia would be disappointed if both of us didn’t come back for a while.”

“That’s okay,” Louis jokes. “She’s a big girl now.”

Harry laughs at his comment, “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love me.”

“Yeah…yeah, I do.”

As if he needs any more reassurance from the love of his life, Louis asks, using the one word that has become so much more to them then anything else. “Stay?”

And with his dimpled grin and enchanting green eyes, Harry promises. “Always.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much!!
> 
>  
> 
> **Here is the[rebloggable post](http://afangirlfantasy.tumblr.com/post/156560625886/but-darling-stay-with-me-by-afangirlfantasy) for this story, along with the image!**  
>  **This is my main tumblr blog:[afangirlfantasy](http://afangirlfantasy.tumblr.com)**  
>  **This is my fic rec / author rec side blog:[alarriefantasy](http://alarriefantasy.tumblr.com)**


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